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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26483455">Perfection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyrotechnics_Service/pseuds/Pyrotechnics_Service'>Pyrotechnics_Service</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Life Is Strange (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Horror, One Shot, Strangulation, Stream of Consciousness, don't read this if you're not okay with choking, i actually really like nathan why did I write this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:41:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>660</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26483455</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyrotechnics_Service/pseuds/Pyrotechnics_Service</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark Jefferson was a man that cared about perfection.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Perfection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mark Jefferson was a man that cared about perfection.</p><p>That was why he took this job of course.</p><p>This hick town would be the perfect place to gather his subjects, to truly perfect his craft.</p><p>To really capture the feeling he needed to.</p><p>Nobody would really miss a few-- disappearances.</p><p>But, he had to admit.</p><p>The gender disparity was worrying him a tad.</p><p>Girls, those sweet girls, gave up their innocence gladly. Handing it over into the drug’s sweet embrace, seeping out of them into his photographs.</p><p>Boys, however, clung to it.</p><p>A strange reversal of the gender roles, he knew. But dragging innocence out of a boy was much more-- difficult then coaxing it out of a girl.</p><p>To get the desired effect, he had to kill the boys. Which wasn’t something he liked doing. It left a trail. Destroyed his carefully crafted image. It wasn’t prudent.</p><p>But, his pictures had been-- slipping as of late. He supposed the death had contributed. Rachel had been a good subject, but corpses couldn’t ooze out their innocence. They had no innocence to give! Wasted film and wasted potential, all because of his arrogance. Stupid Mark.</p><p>No, he needed something new, something <em>fresh</em> to revitalize his artistic spirit.</p><p>He needed to photograph a boy.</p><p>And if he could kill two birds with one stone, and lure Miss Caulfield in as a subject, well, that could be arranged.</p><p>This latest subject had been a good little helper, but now the tool’s usefulness had come to an end. The subject had actually <em>threatened</em> him, spouted empty words about turning them both in if he attempted to make Miss Chase a subject. Which, of course, he couldn’t abide by.</p><p>The argument had escalated, as he wanted it to, and the subject tried to punch him.</p><p>Of course, Mark Jefferson prepared for these things. He always did, after all. The setup hadn’t been shifted for nothing.</p><p>He had the bigger muscle mass, and the element of surprise, and he was able to pin the subject down without much trouble.</p><p>Yes, there was some squirming, some screaming, but that didn’t get in the way. The only difficult part was starting the camera timer.</p><p>After that, well, the human neck was weak. Squishy almost. And if said neck belonged to a malnourished teenager, it was easy.</p><p>Wrap his hands around the pale hunk of flesh and <em>squeezing</em> was just a matter of timing.</p><p>For a split second, Mark Jefferson worried that the timing might’ve been off.</p><p>The camera wasn’t clicking, wasn’t capturing any moment.</p><p>The subject’s struggles were weakening too quickly, the eyes losing their light too soon.</p><p>If he lost this investment, he might as well retire his cameras, this needed to <em>work</em>.</p><p>But then the first camera flash came in, and Mark Jefferson began to smile.</p><p>Yes, yes this would be perfect, look at the flared nostrils, the bluish tinge of the lips. The gasped, desperate words, the white knuckles encircling his wrists. The thick collar of bruises that would form on the neck, eyes rolling up into the skull as the last breaths were wrenched out of the raw throat, oh yes, this would get him back onto his game, this would be part of the magnum opus, this was <em>art</em></p><p>He made sure to stay out of the camera’s way, to let it capture this beauty.</p><p>Let that face be unmarred by his shadows.</p><p>Only his hands stayed, as a hallmark.</p><p>A signature.</p><p>And just as he thought, the pictures turned out <em>wonderfully</em>.</p><p>The best he would ever get from the male sex.</p><p>Of course, he still had to take care of the body, but he’d prepared for that. He wasn’t an <em>amateur</em>.</p><p>Overall, Mark Jefferson was a man who cared about perfection.</p><p>And as he watched Nathan Prescott’s body sink down into the depths of the bay,</p><p>He muttered a thanks.</p><p>After all, he always thanked the imperfect as they caved to perfection.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yeah, I write Life Is Strange fic now. Instead of for other video games where the characters talk like real human people. Yayyyyyy.....</p><p>Anyway, this idea has been kicking around my head a bit, since it didn't really make too much sense for Mr. Jefferson to yeet Nathan so fast. I get the whole "he's a liability" angle but it seemed kinda sudden. Episode 5 was already a rushed hot mess, but just sending one of my favorite characters to the shadow realm like that really ticked me off. But Mr Jefferson was....interesting (extremely disturbing) to write, and this just-- formed. </p><p>Also, this fic is also partially venting because I _severely_ underestimated how much work two AP classes would take.....kill me please.....</p></blockquote></div></div>
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